Reality
by TheGodmother2
Summary: Walt and Vic continue in marriage and family. The fourth and final series in the Quadrilogy of Confessions, Truths, and Facts.
1. Chapter 1

_**I'll give it a go and in the words of JK Washer this is a "Quadrilogy." I don't know where we will end up but hopefully we will have fun getting there.**_

 _ **The Fourth and Final segment in the Confessions, Truths, Facts series.**_

* * *

Standard procedure that's what the Doc claims and I believe him. He's serious.

"Hey, I ah put some movies here I thought you might like and a few books."

He says, nerves are on the surface, real, exposed, and unlike anything I've ever seen before.

He rubs the palms of his hands on the side of his jeans where his hips indent. It's that sexy part of his ass. I want him to touch me.

"Thanks for the movies." I say without looking at the titles, " and the books." I add.

"Ah, Ferg suggested that I ah, that I get you a subscription to Netflix. He says they have a lot of stuff on there that you can watch on your laptop. He helped me out with it."

He flashes a grin like he's about to ask for his first kiss.

"Come here." I say and he does and I kiss him. He holds me and he's gentle, his big hands at the small of my back just below the pain in my back.

"Do I have a bruise? "

"Yup. It's a good one, too."

He holds me a little closer, wrapping his deceptively huge arm around me. He's so tough, so gentle, and so reassuring I never want him to let me go. I take in his scent treasuring that no one ever gets to see this part of him; the part that is only for me, the part that I am sharing with you.

"We're going to be ok." He whispers all weak.

"I know"

"I'm sorry" and I hear the gravity and the weight of it all.

"For what" I say because I cannot call the horror to my lips.

"For everything"

"It wasn't your fault." You and me we know it wasn't.

"I should have seen him" He owns this like he does everything. Everything.

"I didn't see him" I confess.

"You scared me" He's truthful.

"I didn't know what happened to you." It's a fact as my breath catches at the thought of losing him.

"He came out of the car and rushed me. He had a gun. I killed him."

I taste it.

"You never gave up" He says

The fear

"He pissed me the fuck off"

The anguish

"You were so strong and so sure"

The resiliency

"When my elbow hit the ground and I saw his fucking suede shoes all I thought about was if we were having a baby this can't be happening."

His palm strokes my arm.

"Walt we could have…"

"Shhhh, it's ok, Vic."

"No, but that fucker could have…"

"But he didn't. We're ok." I hold him tightly. I hold on because I don't want him to ever leave me.

I wipe my eye, "I promised myself I would tell you that I love you more."

"You do fine."

"No, no I don't. I love you."

"I love you" His voice deep and gravely and clear.

"I need to tell you more often" I say

"I need to show you more often" He says

"I'd like that"

"Me, too on both accounts"

"When are you going to start?" I ask

"When you're better"

"You don't have to wait that long"

"No?" His breath warm on my ear.

"No." I say resting my words on his chest.

"We're going to have a baby." I say the shock of it settling

He hugs me tighter. He's hugging us both.

"Come on. Off to bed. We need to follow doctor's orders."

"See, I said, you wouldn't have to wait long." I tease and groan.

He links his fingers in mine and leads me slowly to our bedroom.

"Let's get you comfortable." He kneels down and pulls off my running shoes and socks.

"Short socks, I know, but do you want to leave your sweats on or do you want shorts?"

"These are fine."

"You good with your running bra?" He asks and I can't help but think how considerate he is.

"Yeah." I wince.

"Side hurt?"

I nod

"We can do our breathing exercises."

"We?"

"We" He says surprised I questioned his commitment.

"Not having pain pills fucking sucks."

"I know."

He stretches his long lean body next to mine on the bed, his shoulder presses against mine, deep breath in through the nose, hold it, and out through the mouth. We do five rounds and I keep my eyes closed.

He rests his hand on my waist.

"Where's Linda?" I ask timing be damned.

"Ferg told me she left after meeting with her lawyer, made arrangements for John and went home."

"You owe me a weekend."

"I owe you a lifetime, babe."

"That too." I smirk silently ordering the pain away, "but I want my weekend first."

"As soon as you heal up."

"Something romantic."

"Yup."

I can feel him smiling; my eyes closed, his voice goes all buttery, "Get some sleep, and dream about how much I love you and what we are going to name our son.


	2. Chapter 2

_**This one probably deserves an M rating.**_

* * *

It takes about a month for my side to completely heal and I'm about to lose my fucking mind because he's careful with me.

It's my day off, I'm down to one cup of coffee a day, and I don't want a day off I want to work but even that shit is slowly taking the grind out of my spirit. Sitting in the office, restricted from field duty, the list goes fucking on and on.

When the phone rings I actually hesitate but I answer, "Longmire insane asylum."

I hear his soft chuckle.

"Hey"

"Hey yourself." I'm rude

"You still mad?"

"I'm not mad just bored out of my mind."

"I know"

"What are you wearing?" I need to think about something other than the four walls closing in.

He chuckles again thinking about engaging.

"What do you want me to wear?" He asks his voice drops deeper and I know he's alone.

"Nothing."

"I can accommodate that request." The timbre rumbles in the phone.

"Fuck, Walt. You're such a tease."

"I'm not teasing." His voice goes soft like maybe just maybe he's thinking about it.

"Prove it."

"Be ready." He says

"You're full of shit." I say challenging my mostly orthodox husband.

"Hmm" I hear and then the distinctive click of the line going dead.

Fuck this I think as I take my morning shower, dress in my uniform of the day; a pair of shorts, a tank and flip flops and start my otherwise boring day.

I'm drying my hair so I never hear the front door open.

He grabs my waist just as I see his reflection in the mirror and my girl shriek is out before I can contain it and I hate that I did it but I see the pleasure in his face and it pisses me off.

"You ready?" He growls in my ear, his hands cupping my breast not so gently underneath.

"Fuck, Walt."

"I didn't mean to scare you." He nibbles on my neck and he sinks the tip of his teeth in a little deeper and it does things to me.

"Whose minding the store?" I ask as my head goes back and I bury it in his shoulder.

"The usual suspects."

Our eyes meet in the mirror and he's an inferno.

He doesn't ask, when he takes the bottom of my tank and pulls it over my head, tossing it on the counter. My shorts and panties are off before I know what's happening and I hear the snaps of his shirt rip open.

"It's not even noon yet so what do we call this?"

I say trying to savor every moment of this surprise.

He doesn't respond and in his reflection I see his boxers hit the floor. He's fully engorged, he's fully capable and he's ready. His shirt is gaping open, he's bare and naked, and he closes the distance between us.

"It's love, Vic. That's what it's always been. That's what we call it."

I reach behind me and pull his hair. Hard.

His hands and his mouth are all over my body, spinning me around; I lift my leg around him, his huge hand slides beneath my thigh.

His hand is hot and he pulls me closer his tongue has found its place in my mouth. He's dominating, fully invested in my satisfaction, his long strong agile finger pulls back and then forward checking the way he does to make sure I'm ready. He's attentive that way and he feels good that way.

I push up on the counter and his hands hold my hips, his thumb rubs against the scar on my side. The scar that almost ended this as a possibility and it's like his brain registers it at the same time.

He hovers just inside of me. He's a tease I think.

I take a hold of him

"Are you teasing me?"

He responds by plunging his tongue deeper.

He takes my hand. He's still there and I'm about to scream from desire but I won't give in to his tease despite my body acquiescing.

My nails push into the soft flesh of his low back and he moans, lips pressed against mine, his head pulls away, and he's just in focus when he says something that surprises me.

"Ask me." His breath is hot.

He doesn't move.

"Ask me for it."

My stare is equal in intensity.

"I'm not begging you." My grip around him loosens.

"I need you to want me." He says it slow.

I lean forward and he turns his head. He's fucking serious.

Tightening my legs around his waist I cup his jaw and he looks at me and I tell him, "I want and I need you to fuck me."

And I see the crack in his face the momentary break in the shield and we're both someplace else, with each other, and it's hard and gentle at the same time. The abandonment and commitment to each other brings an anguish and satisfaction as I scream from the intensity we've never experienced; this higher plain I never knew existed. He matches my vocal accord and it's unbreakable and it's over and his head collapses forward and he stays here with me, in me, and he kisses me slightly out of breath.

His hair has fallen in his eyes I push it back revealing the gloss staring back at me and he deeply rumbles, "You love me."

"I love you." I reaffirm , "I've always loved you."

"I love both of you."

And we stay like that and I kiss his neck and his cheek and his lips.

After we shower and dress he stands by the front door, hat in hand, and says, "Why don't you spend the rest of the day packing for us?"

"Packing?" I ask with attitude as if he is regulating me to housewife and not deputy.

"I owe you a weekend."

"You are full of surprises." I say surprised.

He smiles and I worry how long this will last or won't last.

"Did you come home just because I am bored?"

He closes the distance between us, "Not entirely."

"But it's a part of it?"

"I miss you being with me." His lips smack

"Don't push me into something I'm not."

"I won't. I'm not."

"You sure you love me." I ask

"Positive." He says and kisses me and it's deep and warm.

"I'll see you tonight," he says tenderly in my ear and when he turns to walk out of the door he winks.

"Kick ass and take names." I order.

He smiles, his tongue sticks out you know the way it does when he finds something funny, pulls on his hat and replies, "You know I will."


	3. Chapter 3

The ensuing seven months are more of the same; my boredom is tempered by my very attentive husband. Oddly, I have never felt more loved by him. Our lovemaking is frequent and passionate and while he was experimental before he is surely mastering his creative flow now that my belly is swollen and full with our son.

"Am I hurting you?" He asks with concern.

I shake my head, "You feel so good." I whimper because he does and I didn't think this would ever be possible but it is and he's gentle and he's strong and it's almost enough for me to want to be pregnant again despite my boredom and growing discomfort.

He looks at me, almost through me, he's so intense, "I love your belly." His fingers spread across and he holds me the tenderness pouring through his skin.

His eyes close, his breath shortens, he's almost there, and just as he holds his breath with the final tender push he opens his eyes and looks at me and he's all there, all present with me.

"I never knew I could love you like this." I say and it's over but it's not, at that moment I realize it is really just beginning for us.

He waits and then fills me with kisses before rolling onto his back, spent. After I wash up, I lay down next to him, his fingers stroll up and down his bare chest ruffling the hair that resides there. He's thinking in his usual pose laying here next to me. His other forearm rests on his forehead, his palm facing the arched ceiling.

"What's on your mind, hon?" I ask knowing I should just wait because it will be evident soon enough and only when he's ready.

He turns on his side, facing me, and eases his hand under my baby doll pajamas gently encircling my stomach. His head rests next to my shoulder on part of my pillow.

"I get worried sometimes." He says and it's not what I am expecting to hear.

"You want to tell me about it?"

His hand stops circling, his voice is weary, "The reality that I will be 71 going on 72 when our son graduates from high school is starting to sink in. I don't want him to be the laughing stock of Durant having an old father. Will I still be here for him? Will I see him fall in love and get married? Will I still be man enough for you? The man I need to be?"

"I guess it's time for a new pair of running shoes."

"What?"

"You need to stay in shape. You're doing pretty well there, you know."

I press my hand over his, "and you're doing well in other places."

He smiles and blushes a bit but asks, "Will you still love me when I'm an old man?"

"Yes." It's out before he asks completely.

He closes his eyes and presses his body against mine, his arm draped around my hips, his hand resting on my belly. He falls asleep, his breathing deep, and I tell him that I love him.

We ride to work together the next morning and I process the court documents, traffic citations, and records requests while Ruby is out of the office.

"When is Ruby getting back?" I yell about an hour into it.

"Next week, Vic. You know that." Ferg answers up.

"How does she do this shit?"

"The question is how are you going to make it at home after the baby is born?" Ferg chuckles the way he does. It's innocent but it means so much.

The truth is, I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm excited about being a mom especially after we redecorated and turned Walt's office into a baby room. We decided on a football theme and his room is fucking awesome. I've spent the past month cleaning everything in sight and washing, folding, color coordinating onesies.

Cady threw me a baby shower and it was made more special because she was the mastermind behind it. Sometimes it's weird and sometimes it's not and as the baby comes closer I notice her distance but I want peace in our family. Last week, we met for lunch at the Pony and I promised her that the baby would never take her place that Walt loved her and always would.

"Dad never treated me like he was replacing a son." She said and I believe her.

"The sun rises and sets on you." I affirm and she nodded almost embarrassed.

Ferg snaps me out of my daydream, "You guys decide on a name, yet?" He asks

"No. I want to see him first. I don't want to pick out a name and he looks nothing it. Then that shit will be stuck with him forever."

"That somehow makes sense, Vic." He says sort of shocked.

"Don't patronize me." I roll my eyes but I'm not mad.

"I'm not, seriously." He laughs and slides another stack of tickets onto my desk.

"Oh come on Ferg. You are kidding me!"

Ferg laughs, his hair mussed from being up all night, "That's it for me Undersheriff Longmire, I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Good night, Ferg. Get a good sleep."

"Should be nice and cool today so I can sleep well."

"Yeah, the late shift is a bitch."

"Yeah it is."

"Maybe Walt can switch once the baby is born?"

"That's a thought." He affirms

"I'll talk to him about it."

"You will?" Sounding surprised at my offer.

"Yeah, Ferg. I will, promise."

"Thanks, Vic."

"Sure."

Ferg leaves and I am left alone to my own devices which naturally translate into thoughts about my husband. I miss him and I quickly chastise myself for being so sentimental. _Fuck_ , I think, _this isn't me_.

Waddling over to the radio, I key down the mic, "Walt, you there?"

"Go ahead, Vic."

"What's you're eta back to the station?"

"Less than ten. Everything ok?"

"Affirm. See you in ten."

I go to the bathroom, again. This shit is getting old I say out loud.

His footsteps are light today as he hits the landing. He looks good as he approaches me, full smile, and a light kiss on my lips, hands on my belly.

"How you doin'?" He asks

"Good. Just tired of peeing."

"We are getting close."

"We still have a few weeks."

"It's our first one so maybe early. You already dropped."

"Listen to you, Dr. Walt."

He chuckles, "Just excited."

I roll my eyes and put my palms on my lower back. I kiss him, a little longer on the lips, "Me, too." I say and I mean it.

I sit down in one of the visitor's chairs in his office because it has arms and is easier to get up from, "Walt."

"What's wrong?"

"Who says something is fucking wrong?" I snap

"Vic. Come on." He says with a flash of frustration cursing his brow.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to hang at home for five fucking years without losing my ever loving mind." I start to sort of scream which I know is wrong but I'm really at the end of my rope and I've been afraid to say anything because he's so happy we are having a baby.

"I know you're bored." His hands are on his hips but they are loose so he's thinking.

He smacks his lips, "How can we afford it if you go back to work?"

"What?"

"I mean if I retire early how can we afford to live? You know most of the value of my pension is in the last five years which is now. How can we afford it?"

"I haven't thought about it, Walt. I just know I would be miserable."

"You haven't been a mom, yet. You don't know."

He's got a point, though it's not a point I want to hear. "Am I being selfish?"

"Just honest."

"You would really, I mean, you would retire early?"

He nods his head and I swear his eyes tear up but I can't be quite sure.

I walk over to him and stand and stare, my hand comes up to his smoothly shaven face, and I hold it there.

"How come you love me so much?" It's genuine.

"A woman gets the husband she deserves."

"Same could be said for you."

His hand covers mine, "I surely hope so. I'm a lucky man."


	4. Chapter 4

_Lincoln Henry Longmire._

It is right. The moment I see him and Walt concurs No discussion. No debate. He owns it. He's his father's son with ear lobes that are a little too big for his ears and a natural furrow in his forehead.

Walt counts his fingers and his toes and kisses the bottom of his feet. His eyes are wet and teary when he leans down to kiss me.

"Look what we made?" He's loving and thoughtful his hand nearly bigger than our baby as he holds him pressed against his heart.

"Yeah." I whisper back the tears fill my voice because in many unexpected ways this moment is unbelievable.

The customary greetings take place with family and friends and after a couple of hours it's just us.

"Vic, I have something to tell you."

My heart stops, it's unexpected, my heart stopping, and I have this ridiculously awful feeling he's leaving me, leaving us, but I know it's irrational. It must be baby brain. I've read about that in one of the ten million magazines and books he's gifted me this past nine months.

He sputters forward, "Your mom is here. She's at our house, I mean. We wanted to surprise you. I think you need her, Vic." He takes my hand because I think he thinks I'm going to punch him.

I look up at him and I want to yell at him. It's not why you think. Stop judging me, you've met my mom, right? It's because he didn't tell me. He avoided me being upset with him. We've moved past this at least I thought we had and it makes me sad for us, if only for a moment, but it lingers.

That lingering is where the trouble starts.

Walt wheels us out of the hospital and the main double sliding automatic doors perch open to greet us as Charlie walks by in his customary three button vest and he tips his fingers to his forehead.

"Congratulations, Sheriffs' "

His lips part revealing his tobacco stained teeth that shape into a very genuine smile. I smile back and Walt stops us for a moment and shakes his hand.

"Who's minding the store, Charlie?"

I can hear the smile in his voice and I look up and confirm the glistening teeth smiling back at Charlie. She that's why he's Sheriff. It comes natural. It's who he is and a part of him that fills the void within in me.

The exchange is only a few seconds but one that I know I must grow accustom during the ensuing weeks.

Walt parks us at the curb.

"I'll bring the truck around." He grins and I swear he skips away but it's more like his long legs and long gait are faster than normal and I selfishly enjoy the rearview of his swagger.

I look down at Lincoln and trace his jaw, "That's part of the reason you got here, man. Mommy can't resist Daddy." I smile and he doesn't pay me any mind and I wonder what he's thinking in this bright shiny loud scary place that he is now a part of.

"I can't promise you anything but to love you until I die and all that my love entails."

Walt pulls around in a white new quad-cab diesel.

"What the fuck?" My subconscious chastises me for my language but what the fuck.

He bounds around the front fender with a shy grin, his long dark blue clad arms dropped to his sides, "Thought you would like the extra room." He says a bit shy.

He opens the rear door and the baby seat is secured and ready. He walks over to help me up and when he does I softly kiss his lips, "Thank you, baby." I whisper our lips pressed together.

He smiles into my mouth and says, "I'm glad you like it."

"I love it and I'm pretty sure Lincoln does, too."

On the ride home he's quiet and I'm exhausted.

"Vic." He says and takes my hand, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Lena."

I wait.

"I really did want it to be a surprise."

"In your antiquated mind I somehow think that you are convinced a woman should have her mother with her when she gives birth."

He's quiet and he keeps my hand in his.

"I guess it's because I wish Cady could have the same that I didn't want to deny you. "

The pains of guilt, of shame, of humility all combine forces and crash into my head snapping me out of my selfish self-absorbed bitch of a mood.

"I'm sorry, Walt." I say and I really mean it.

He doesn't say anything he just squeezes my hand and he waits a few beats.

"Vic, I didn't mean it that way just that I only want the best for you and I love you and I love Lincoln and I know Lena loves you despite your differences."

I get it. He wasn't being manipulative but it worked that way and in the end is that the point? I don't know.

We pull up to our cabin and there's a maroon SUV parked in front.

He points, "Your mom's rental. I figured it best that she wasn't tied to the cabin. You know since I still have to work and you shouldn't be driving, yet."

"Smart." I say and thankful.

Before Walt shuts down the diesel Lena Moretti is on the porch and she's beautiful I must say with a wide smile on her face she pulls her hair back with her finger it's her tell that she's nervous and is filled with trepidation. I know, I do the same thing, I think as I pull my hair back behind my ear.

I kiss Lincoln's little warm pink forehead and tell him I love him because I do and my heart swells and it's full and I think it will burst with happiness when I look up to see Walt as he takes him from me and meets Lena on the porch handing him over.. As the sun begins to set, I look up at my family, and I love them I think.

Walt trots back and I take his arm and we make our way to Lena and I hug her and I feel the wetness on her cheek as she hugs me back.

"Victoria." Is all she says and that's all she really needs too.

"Hi Mom." I say back

Walt leans in and takes my hand his face is full and warm and I know he loves me but I hope he knows what he's gotten himself into but he'll find out soon enough I think. Soon enough.


	5. Chapter 5

"When did you do this?"

Put aback by the presence of a hardwired flush baby monitoring system in the cabin.

He points effortlessly standing in his socks, jacket, and hat off, "Bob and Henry came out while we were at the hospital."

He smiles that smile that wins him elections.

"Say it's their baby gift to our little guy."

He walks over and points toward the couch, "there's a monitor here, in our bedroom and of course the base is in his room but once we don't need it anymore we can play CD's and have music throughout the house."

"Oh, I like that," I say sweet and gooey which means I don't sound like me, "I'll call them tomorrow and thank them." Baby brain, I think, it's changing me.

"Victoria, are you hungry?"

My mom strides into the living room holding Lincoln and she is glowing. I've always known my mom to be beautiful but not like this. Her beauty has been both a curse and an aspiration growing up under her very distinct shadow.

She smiles at Walt and I swear she is flirting but I dismiss her antics and I nod.

"No, mom but I'm a little thirsty."

Walt looks at her, "Let me have him. I'll change him and get him ready to have a little dinner from mom," and he winks at me as he walks towards the baby's room.

I'm sore as hell and I'm relieved that I can see my feet and for the most part my belly isn't bloated. In one of my many hours of boredom I typed out my after pregnancy workout schedule that I plan to get to as soon as I can.

Walt comes back with Lincoln and the unpredictable occurs. I feel distinctly uncomfortable breast feeding in front of my mom and my husband. I think for a second that I have been swallowed up by a Victorian goddess and trust me that is not a play on my name. Until this very specific moment, aside from our first feeding at the hospital, my breasts have been sexual objects both for my benefit and my lovers benefit. Those sexual objects are now life sustaining flesh and exposing them to my husband and my mother in the same room just isn't going to fucking cut it.

"I think I'm going to get him used to feeding in his room." I say thinking of the most reasonable explanation I can offer because part of this process is me being considerate of the two people that love him as much as I do.

The confusion flashes across Walt's face and he helps me to Lincoln's room.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

He sets my cold glass of water on the side table and he looks at us, studying us. I know he's thinking.

"Go have dinner with my mom, Walt. Seriously, I'm ok. I'm just tired and I want to lay down after he eats." I give him a half-hearted smile.

He leans down and kisses me on the cheek and Lincoln on the forehead.

"Take it easy on mom, Linc."

"Linc?"

"Yeah, Linc"

"Walt, really"

"Really"

"Ok"

"Ok?"

"Yes, Ok."

He smiles and it's magnanimous and I love him.

As he turns to walk out I capture his pinkie in my hand, "I love you, Walt."

He stops and looks at me and closes his hand around mine, "I love you very much, Vic."

He waits a beat, "Now, let me go deal with your mother."

"She's flirting with you, you know."

"Is that what that was? I couldn't be sure."

"You knew what the hell it was." I corner him.

"I guess so." He looks up to the gridiron border along the walls and sighs as if he is formulating a game plan to deal with one very potentially wicked Lena Moretti.

"Well, it's a little strange what sort of man would consider sleeping with his mother-in-law much less a married woman is beyond me but it certainly isn't a consideration for me."

I laugh because it's funny.

"What's so funny?"

"You are. You take everything so fucking seriously."

"Don't you think this is serious?"

"Fuck no. It's just who she is. She's a flirt, Walt. It's meaningless."

"You didn't feel that way not so long ago."

"That shit was different Walt and you know it."

"Was it?"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"I just think you are being hypocritical that's all."

"Oh because your precious Linda wanted you and made it clear."

"The rules can't be different."

"They aren't"

"Yes, Vic you are making them different."

I sigh as I look at Lincoln who is doing a great job with his eyes closed and latching on. He's strong. He's going to be like his dad I just know it; independent, strong willed, and stubborn as hell.

"Walt, I don't want to fight with you tonight."

"I don't want to fight with you ever."

"So, what the fuck?"

He squats down, his knees bent, weight on the balls of his feet, "I don't know why we do this? Tonight of all nights we shouldn't do this." His eyes are so sincere.

"I'm sure it has everything to do with my maturation reversion in the presence of my mother." I roll my eyes because it feels like years of progress have not only stopped I've reverted back to teen spirit.

"Vic, it is a good thing she is here with you." His fingers slide over caressing my knee and Linc makes a funky weird half gurgle half yawn mongrel sound and I am bewildered.

I look at Walt and think for such a smart man he can be so dumb sometimes but in the end I don't have the heart or the energy to tell him that not all moms and daughters are sugar plums and rainbows.

"Besides, Linc here needs to get to know his grandma."

"Maybe we can go to Philly next year?"

"We absolutely can do that."

"Walt, I haven't wanted to push this but are you going to take any time off? You know parental rights extend to you too even in Wyoming."

"I don't know Vic we don't have the manpower you know that."

"Yeah, but you can ask for help. I know that, too."

"We'll see."

"That's not an acceptable answer." My lips are thin and pressed and I'm tired and pissed.

He cants his head like a dog that doesn't understand the command.

"We'll see is something you tell your kid not your wife you must have a better answer than that."

"What else do you want me to say?"

"I want you to say you will take some fucking time off the job and be here with your family who needs you that's what I want you to fucking say, Walt." My voice is quiet. You know that quiet scream.

"Vic."

"No, I don't want to hear your fucking excuses, Walt."

"Why are you just now bringing it up?"

"Because I just now had our baby!" I'm practically inaudible now I'm so intense.

The duress of my statements reflects in his face and his jaw clenches and his words are measured, "Vic, you know it's not that easy."

His hand is still on my knee and one of his joints pops, "I just can't walk away from work."

I feel my eyebrows go up and stay there like I just caught him eating the extra cookie, "Ha, there it is. You can't walk away from work but I'm supposed to?"

"That's not what I mean." Now he's pissed

"What do you mean?" Linc caws a little, his little tiny fingers in a half fist completely oblivious to the centuries old war between men and women.

"I mean I'm the Sheriff I just can't walk away."

"Bullshit."

"It's not bullshit, Vic."

"You're the one man who can walk away because you are the Sheriff. What are you going to deny yourself the time off? "

"Vic, we haven't even talked about this."

"Ok." I concede, "We haven't really talked about it like we should have but I find it strangely ironic that the man that thinks of everything doesn't think to take time off from work."

It's like I hit him with a 2x4 right across the brow, his face goes completely blank, his head goes down toward the wood floor then back up at me, his perfect lips thin out the way they do when he is caged in a corner and he's about to strike, "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you yet again. I'll make sure you won't have to worry about me being too thoughtful in the future."

Maybe it's fatigue, maybe it's fear, maybe it's resentment or the sudden onset feelings of being trapped but my reply is unexpected and before it's over I'm pretty sure I manage to destroy something significant, "Fuck you, Walt. Fuck you and all of your sanctimonious commitment to duty bullshit. The only commitment you have is to the people right here in this house everything else is extra and if you haven't figured that shit out by now you never will so save it for the next election because I'm not going to put up with it anymore. I'm not going to be a married single parent."

Our eyes lock and my walls are completely eviscerated this is all of me and he takes it in but I don't get it back. The wall is up and he's shut down and he's regressed back to the silence that is intuitive for him and as he stands a different or maybe the same joint pops again but this time a little louder. He walks out of the room without saying a word.

I look down at Lincoln and the tears start but just a few fall and as I wipe them away I realize I'm not sad at all but rather I'm relieved because for the first time in my life I'm being honest with myself without regard for the consequences and that's the bravest thing I've ever done.


	6. Chapter 6

"Vic, honey why don't you go lay down?"

I'm too tired to be embarrassed. I know she heard me fighting with Walt and she actually sounds like she cares. I can't fight the two of them, not tonight.

"Mom, I don't want to fight with you, too." It is a demand not a plea for mercy. She sits across the room in the hand carved cedar chair that Walt bought from a master craftsman on the Reservation. The tiny matching chair for Lincoln lingers in its shadow. When he brought them home one evening he said he thought it would be nice to read our son stories and have a little man time together. It's shit like that, that has me so confused about tonight, about next week, next month, and the resistance of being home with us.

"I'm not here to fight with you, Vic."

"He's not through eating at least I don't think he's through. He's really latched on to me."

I flip my hair and push it behind my ear in my exasperated way and I soak in the beauty of my baby.

"You know your Dad and I had some serious rows when you kids started coming along." I almost don't recognize her voice, it's maternal, and it's loving. It makes me suspicious.

"I can imagine."

"Can you?" She's challenging me. I knew this was an act.

I snap my neck and roll my eyes out of past practice and I wait.

"Your father wasn't a detective, yet. He was working hard, putting in overtime, we were still living in the upstairs bedroom of your grandparents. We were saving for a house and we really needed to get out and be on our own. Your grandmother helped with your brother and I didn't want to add to the problems so I just shut my mouth. That's what you did then, Vic."

I look at my mom and am nearly mesmerized by the fact that she's not judging me right now she's talking to me but I know I can't let her fake me out.

"By the time you came along we were well on our own and I needed help. Your dad had just made detective and he was on rotation every weekend. You know seniority counts for everything in the department and he was the FNG in the unit. We fought a lot after you were born. I needed him to be a father and I needed him to be my husband but he didn't see it that way."

"What are you saying, mom that I should be able to handle one baby by myself?"

"Don't put words in my mouth." She snaps. That's the Lena I know.

"What I'm saying is that whether you realize it or not your husband is much like your father."

That causes an eye roll.

"Your father despite his faults." She alludes to his ill-fated and much reattributed infidelity, "is an excellent provider. That's how he measures his success as a man."

Another eye roll.

"Vic, I'm not saying you have to agree I'm just saying you need to understand where Walt is coming from."

"That's ridiculous."

"Why is it so hard to understand?"

"Because mom, if he gets lost in work he's considered an excellent provider but if I get lost in work I'm a self-absorbed selfish bitch who doesn't appreciate or love her kid."

She looks at me.

"It's total bullshit." I exclaim.

"I never said it wasn't." She clears her throat and places her gently pressed fist to her mouth in politeness.

She straightens out the one wrinkle on her perfectly coiffed herringbone slacks and her sharp hazel eyes cut right through me.

"You need to get your head out of the clouds and stop trying to change your husband. You need to understand him to get what you want. Don't they teach you that in detective school?"

"Your solution is for me to manipulate my husband to get what I want? Really, mom. You can't be serious?"

"Do what you want Vic but if you keep going on this way you may as well make friends with the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy because they are the only ones living in your fantasy world."

She gets up and moves over toward me, taking Lincoln, and placing him gently in his crib.

"Vic, I'm not suggesting you manipulate Walt but what I am suggesting is that you understand what motivates him. Now, go to bed. You need your rest."

"Mom, how long are you staying?"

"I'll tell you like I told Walt. Just long enough to help but not long enough to actually draw blood."

She smiles and I laugh. She puts her arms around me and kisses my cheek.

"I'm so happy for you Victoria and I know it will all work out."

"Thanks mom."

"I'll be here so get some sleep."

Our bedroom is dark and the bed is still made. He's not here. I wash up as best I can and pull on a loose pair of shorts and an old tank top. I feel like shit and I'm pretty sure I look like hell.

Lying down on my side of the bed the exhaustion, the fear, and the reality that I am responsible for a living human being nearly overpowers me and all of those thoughts and feelings win the battle over how much I miss him and want him here next to me as I drift off to sleep.

I don't know how much time has passed but I know his touch. His arm is gently perched across the top of my stomach just under my breasts and I hear him so soft in the back of my neck.

"We're going to fuck this up."

He doesn't answer right away and I wait for the wave of fear to roll through my skin but it doesn't and I find that troubling.

"No, Vic, we won't."

"At this rate we will."

"It's just so new that's all."

"I have to check on him."

"I just did. He's sleeping. He's fine."

"I'm not her you know."

"I know and I don't want you to be."

"I'm not going to raise our son alone, Walt."

He's quiet.

"I never brought it up because I didn't think I needed to. Not with you, Walt, never with you."

His arm tightens just a bit but I can tell he's being careful not to hurt me.

"Where were you?"

"I went for a ride, had to clear my head."

He's still and I know he's thinking maybe formulating what he wants to say or not say.

"I don't ever want to disappoint you." He finally says.

I put my hand over his and he spreads his fingers, mine fall through, "I need you, Walt. We are going to need you."

"I can't change who I am, Vic."

"Do you love us?"

"Yes."

"That means you will take care of us."

"Yes."

"You do realize that means more than going to work."

"Vic, you of all people should understand."

"I do understand and that's the problem."

I squeeze his hand because I love him but as I close my eyes I force the tears back as now is not the time for crying.


	7. Chapter 7

"My my, Lincoln is a nice healthy baby." Doc Pederson smiles at both of us, his long thick finger being held hostage by Lincoln's supernatural grip. It's supernatural because I say so if for no other reason.

"Are you sleeping?" He asks while probing my throat.

"What's that?" I reply with as much sarcasm as I can muster.

He smirks, "That's normal."

"It could be worse at least Walt helps with that. He's good with that actually."

He's quiet as he checks my abdominal muscles.

"Lincoln seems vibrant. You both bonding with him ok?" He asks, his eyes looking at the wall, his hands still on my stomach.

"Well me and my mom spend a lot of time with him but Walt is mostly working. He spends time with him when he gets home but not a lot."

"Hmm," is the reward for my confession.

"Well, he comes home tired but he changes him and feeds him, Doc. He does spend time with him." He looks at me like he wants to say more.

"Is he drinking more?"

"He has a few beers. No big deal."

"Arguing?"

I laugh, "Do you live in my house?"

His hands hang in the front pockets of his embroidered white coat, "How are you feeling, Vic. Really?"

"I'm not depressed if that's what you're getting after."

"What about Walt?"

"Besides him being an ass what do you mean?"

"Men can suffer from post-partum depression, Vic."

"He's not depressed." Suddenly offended by his opinion and feeling the need to defend him, "He just works hard for us and for the people of this county."

I deflect because that's what we do in my family, "When can I start working out, Doc?"

"About six more weeks and you should be fine."

"Is there anything I can do? I can't sit on my ass for six more weeks."

"You can go for very light walks. Nothing too rigorous. You have to heal so don't overdo it."

"Got it. Light walks. Thanks, Doc."

"Exercise is good for combating depression. Keep that in mind."

We both finish our exams and they are unremarkable, that's what he says, and convinces me it's an official medical term. It's the one thing my mom can't get over; there isn't a specialist for everyone or everything here in this small town but she behaves and sits patiently in the waiting room.

She's holding Cowboys & Indians magazine when I come out of the office and I can't help but laughing.

"Don't move mom, I have to get a picture and send it to Michael."

"Don't you dare, Victoria. I'll never live it down."

It's nice. This is so unexpected. Enjoying my mother's company and her help. It's just as unexpected as Walt being super self-absorbed more than usual. My world is completely upside down and I'm at a loss in how to fix it. Though we have our ups and downs Lincoln and I enjoy each other and I marvel at how beautiful he is and how he smells and how he feels.

"Mom, can we come home with you?" I ask her before I really think about it but it's out before I can edit my thoughts.

She stops in her tracks and studies my face.

"Is that what you want?" Her eyes search for answers.

"I think so." I feel my lips twist with doubt and shame.

She strokes my face and smiles and suddenly I feel like I'm six again with a skinned knee and she says, "You need to stay here and work it out with Walt, honey. I know things are hard right now but you love each other and if you leave now there may be nothing for you to come back to and I don't want you to leave until you want to be gone. As much as I miss you, your family misses you; I hope that day never comes."

She hugs me and her hand stays on my cheek.

"Now, let's have lunch, my treat."

Our routine stays the same for the next two weeks and Walt works more hours and drinks a six-pack, sometimes more, on the porch when he gets home but we don't argue anymore, we don't do much of anything anymore.

The following Thursday after dinner he finally gets home and I meet him at the truck and take the case of beer out of his hand and put it back in the truck. The truck that holds my baby seat along with prisoners but I will bust his balls about that some other time.

"Let's go for a walk." I pretty much order him and he doesn't say anything he just turns and offers no resistance.

"My mom is going back to Philly on Sunday."

He stops, anticipating what may soon be the inevitable.

"Are you leaving me?" It's the first time I've ever seen his frailty exposed lingering on the surface without any defenses.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I'm completely exasperated but still in love with him and the fact he can't see that scares the shit out of me.

He drops his head for a moment and then looks back up at me not avoiding me, "You didn't answer my question."

"What do you think, Walt?" My temper is there, the attitude is there, and the pain too.

He takes both my arms in his hands and holds my elbows looking down at me, "I think we're in trouble."

"No, shit." I search his dark eyes, the new wrinkle just above his eyebrow, the agony I can touch and has become a part of me.

"I don't know what's wrong with me." He confesses and his grip tightens around my elbows.

I step back from him and his palms land in mine. I clinch his wedding ring, "You said you picked tungsten because it's unbreakable." He nods and looks at our hands.

"So is my love for you but you've got to be here for us."

"I want to be."

"But you're not."

"Not how you want me to be."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

"What are you afraid of?"

"Failing as a father and as a husband."

"You're doing both." My words sting but they are true.

He drops his hold of my hands, "I know."

"Doc Pederson says you could be depressed."

His forehead crinkles and he looks off into the distance.

"Yeah, that's what I thought until I started reading everything I could find this week and he may be onto something, Walt."

"Why would I be depressed?"

"Hell if I know but there is such a thing as post-partum depression for men. I thought it was bullshit at first but it's not."

He sighs and puts his hands on his hips. "Don't get defensive." I step in close and put my arms around his waist.

He continues to stare, his jaw grinding, and he's thinking.

"You've been drinking too much, you aren't sleeping, and you're cutting us out. Something's wrong, Walt and we have to fix it." He looks at me with a small glimmer of hope.

"Were you like this with Cady?" I hate to ask but I need to know.

He shakes his head, "No, but things were different then."

I look at him promising myself I won't be hurt, I won't be defensive.

"I wasn't expected to be home and Martha never asked. I don't know my place anymore. I feel as if I've lost my way."

"You're place is home with us."

The wrinkles crinkle more.

"Walt, it has nothing to do with this space and this time, it has everything to do with me, as your wife. I would feel the same way if it was 30 years ago. I need you. I don't give a fuck about convention."

"I'll talk to Jim Wilkins tomorrow and see if he can spare some deputies."

"Call him tonight before the weekend rotation."

"Tonight?" He chews on his bottom lip.

"Yeah." I step up on my toes and I kiss his lips and it lingers. When our lips part, we walk back home together and our fingers find each other in the dusk.


	8. Chapter 8

"Jim says he can rotate four deputies in pairs for the next month but that we owe him when the county fair comes in next summer. He always runs short."

"I think we can handle that."

"Only thing is they can start on Saturday but I have to at least show them the ropes that day and spell Ferg."

"Ok."

"Ok."

We drive Lena to the airport on Sunday morning and it's pleasant enough. I know she wants to get back home and as much as I hate to admit she's been a great help. I tell her so as we hug at the foot of the security line.

"Call me if you need me." She says and turns to Walt, "Remember she's a Moretti which means she's tough but also remember she has a dad and a gang of brothers and cousins if you get out line and need a tune-up."

"Yes, ma'am." He says and he smiles.

She takes Lincoln and smothers him with kisses holding his little hand.

"I love you, Lincoln." She whispers and hands him back to me.

"Ok, you two. I will call you when I land."

On the way back home he turns to me, takes my hand, and says, "Let's go for a ride?"

I nod and hold his hand and I decide to just be quiet as the wind whips into the cab of the truck. It's been so long since I've enjoyed him. After a while he says, "I'm going to see Doc Pederson on Wednesday."

"You feeling ok?"

"Not really." He says and I wait.

"I read some of those articles you clipped out yesterday." He doesn't look over at me but rather keeps his eyes on the road.

"I think there may be something to it." His voice is low.

"Ok"

"One of the things recommended is a complete physical to rule out any physiological reasons and I'll go, we'll go, from there."

I squeeze his hand and pull it to my thigh.

"Thank you for taking care of yourself, baby. I know this isn't easy for you."

"It's not."

He gives me a quick grin and keeps his hand in place as we go for a long drive together as one little family. The days pass and turn into weeks as we settle into a livable and somewhat enjoyable routine. Lincoln eats well and is managing to sleep through most of the night. He's a happy baby and observant and bright.

Walt rigged a man sling, that's what he calls it, and we go out for walks together while father and son bond. The exercise is part of both of our recovery plans. We come back from a walk after dinner one night and sit on the porch and out of the blue he says, "It's the fear that gripped me, Vic."

"Huh?"

"It's the fear of being a dad again so late in life. All the things I told you before were really terrifying me and I just wasn't dealing with it very well."

"Work is an escape."

"Yup."

"How are you feeling now?"

"The fear is still there but I'm getting a handle on it."

"Lincoln likes having you home and so do I."

He turns toward me, "You happy?"

"Yes, because we are together."

"You aren't scared?"

"Fucking terrified beyond belief." It comes out so matter-of-fact.

He reaches his long arms out and pulls me toward him and we stand in the middle of the porch holding each other and I realize that this is how it's supposed to be, this is what love looks like, no bullshit, no lies, it's raw and soft and vulnerable.

"I love you, sweetheart." He amorously says in my ear.

I reach up and hold his full face in my hand, "You prove it every day." And he smiles a closed lip smile. "Part of the reason I fell in love with you was because you are so strong. I've always felt safe with you but I never knew how strong you were until these past few weeks."

His eyebrows raise and he looks perplexed.

"Only a real man can face his demons Walt, his weaknesses, and not succumb to them and that's what you have been doing. You're the strongest, truest man I've ever known and I love you so."

"Just don't tell Henry." He quips and I assure him that this stays with us it's only for a husband to his wife.

He leans down and I meet him half-way and in the middle of the turning orange, red, and yellow leaves we kiss each other and it's filled with every fear, every desire and every hope we have for each other and our family.

Surprisingly, we both are able to disengage from work and enjoy the time together without making each other crazy. At Lincoln's one-month well baby visit Doc Pederson gives me the ok to step up my exercise but I still have a couple of weeks to go before he says I can go full throttle. Walt joins me with the extra movement and we relax into each other all over again.

During the mid-day sun he takes Lincoln outside and rocks him in his cradle while he reads Dr. Seuss to him with complete sound effects and voices. He's a dork but a lovable dork.

Yesterday, I snuck in a video recording of his theatre act and sent it to my mom. Her reply, "Old dogs dear old dogs."

It made me smile.

We go to bed early, both exhausted from the day with Lincoln, and as we lay in bed together his huge hairy arm draped around my hips, I decide to broach the subject I have been avoiding.

"What are we going to do when I want to go back to work, Walt?"

"We have about 4 years 10 months and 3 weeks to figure it out." He retorts.

"Who's counting?" I nudge him in the ribs and he laughs.

"I'm serious, Walt. I'll do my part after all you are doing yours but I think we should talk about it. I don't ever want us in a bad place again."

"It's funny." He says lifting his arm and running his hand through his hair and back down again wrapping around me.

"I thought I was going to go crazy not being at work but I'm not although I know a huge part of it is us being all together, being with you, it's like we are courting again." He kisses my neck and his lips stay there as he pulls me a little closer.

"Courting?"

"Yeah, we courted."

I giggle and it's nice to be so relaxed.

"We are now that's for sure."

"Yeah, we are."

"Well, let's figure this out. With seniority you earn 10 hours of vacation time every pay period so that 120 hours a year and we have 11 Federal holidays so that's 88 hours a year."

He does the quick math in his head and says, "That gives you 26 days off a year and I get an extra week so I get 31 days off."

"With the time we both have we can take some significant time off." I say and he agrees.

"What are you proposing?" He asks

"That you would begin to think about the possibility of me going back to work sooner rather than later." I expect him to be mad, even angry for not living up to our agreement, and I would deserve it but instead he sighs into the back of my neck and says, "We will figure something out, babe."

"You mean it don't you?"

"I don't ever want you to be in that deep dark place where I was, where we were, Vic. I love you too much for that."

We stay like this and he pulls me just a little closer, he nuzzles in my hair, his warm breath heats my neck as he falls asleep. I drift into that open free falling space completely relaxed into the uniqueness of being safe in his love.

I wake up slowly to his voice and I startle because I must have slept through Lincoln crying. I hear Walt in the baby's room through the baby monitor and it takes me a moment to realize he's talking to him.

 _Hey Linc. Ah, you're hungry. Mommy made sure you had milk for tonight. Let's see, it's not too warm for ya. Here you go. Oh yeah that's good. You're such a beautiful boy and I love you so much. Yes, I do. You're old dad was such a fool but I'm learning. I promise I will always love you and your mom and I'll do my best to take care of both of you._

 _Oh, let's see if we can get a good burp. Good job, man. Let's go back to sleep so you can grow and get big and strong. I love you._

I shut my eyes as he eases back into the room and I resolve for once in my life to keep my mouth shut and simply cherish the beautiful moment as I think how much I love this craggy flawed but devoted man that shares my life.

* * *

 _ **I'm not sure how many more chapters of this "Quadrilogy" I will be able to complete as you know this wasn't' planned, at all. However, we have reached a point where readers should know that I base my fics on Robert Taylor's interpretation of Walt as opposed to the Walt of the Longmire book series. There are enough differences, in my humble opinion, that depending on your perspective certain attributes or actions may or may not appear plausible and/or within characterization. Thank you again for all of the PM's and reviews. They are appreciated.**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Epilogue**

Walt went back to work a few weeks ago and so far we are working it out. I have dinner ready and when he walks through the door, the sun bounces off of his back and highlights his hair allowing his natural blonde streaks to shine through. He's so handsome I think as he beams in the light.

He walks into the kitchen and slides his arms around my waist and kisses my neck, and my ear, and I hear him groan but I don't think it's on purpose it's more like he's going to combust.

"How's Linc?"

"He's good. He's taking a nap."

His hands move up my ribs, "I don't want to wake him. I'll say hi in a bit." His lips feather my neck again.

"You feel good."

His hands gently move to my breasts, "You're still tender?"

"It's just right."

"I think I've figured it out."

"What's that?"

"We can work twelve hour shifts two weeks in a row and have two weeks off in a row. That gives us 164 hours and it means we can be with Linc full-time for half the month. We can do opposite shifts or opposite weeks either way we will be together."

I turn around in his arms facing him, my hands land on his chest in the openness of his shirt, that magical third button that he never fastens.

"This way you still earn your pension and I'm not stuck."

"It's more than that, babe. You're the best choice for the next Sheriff and I don't want to hold you back. I want you to be happy at home with us but I want you to reach to your potential it's your career not mine that we need to concentrate on at this point."

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

"You're the one that told me that I was the Sheriff and that I make the rules."

I did say that and I kiss him because I can't resist him and it's heated and feverish like we are making up for lost time.

"I think we better stop." He murmurs.

I can feel my face contort into a giant question mark.

"I'm ready." I say softly into his neck.

"I don't want to hurt you" He says back.

"My last check-up was good and Doc said we could have sex after six-weeks. It's past six-weeks."

"You're not even doing your whole workout because of your abs, I can wait. I'm not going anywhere."

I reach down and my hand trails along the very obvious evidence that he is into it, "It's a shame we can't use this."

"Who says we can't?"

No one and we do.

* * *

 ** _This concludes the "Quadrilogy." I wanted to wrap it up so we can see that they are on track even with some very serious issues. I hope you enjoyed it! For those that suggested this even happen, thank you. Again, thanks for all the views, and reviews. All of you are friggin' awesome._**


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